On the prowl for Bear, no Wolves need apply
by cornflakesareglutenfree
Summary: Stiles is staying with a relative near Lima, visits Scandals and meets Dave. Sexytimes ensue.


**~o0o~o0o~o0o~**

_Rubylis (the mistress) demanded: __a one shot of Dave Karofsky and Stiles Stilinski meeting at Scandals and hooking up._

**~o0o~o0o~o0o~**

Dave was still on his first beer, but he'd been sitting here watching the dance floor for about an hour. His drink was getting low, and was contemplating ordering another when the stool next to him was suddenly occupied, and the boy, -who couldn't be any older than Dave-, put his hand up to get the bartender's attention and pointed at Dave's beer.

"Can I get two of those? Thanks!" He dropped a bill on the bar, accepting the bottles, and held one out to Dave, taking a sip out of the second.

"You come here often, big guy?" Stiles raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response, but all he got was a confused look that went from his face to the bottle in the bigger boy's hand and back. "Cat got your tongue?" he moved to take another drink from the bottle, but must have moved too quickly, because there was a slosh, and rather than having a mouthful of the pungent beverage, there was a splash on his chin, and a drip down his throat. "Fuck." He scrambled for a napkin, muttering out a bereaved "Thanks." when the boy handed some over. He looked back up, his cheeks flushed and his brows lowered. "So yeah, you enjoy that beer, and I'm gonna scrape my pride off this sticky floor and find someplace to hide and lick my wounds." He set his drink down and moved to stand, but froze when a large, well formed hand settled over the one he had sitting on the counter. He looked up at the boy, eyes going wide at the humor he found there, floundering when he realized just how handsome the guy was, especially evident when he was smiling.

"You don't have to run off on account of me." He moved his hand away, settling it onto his own thigh as he took a long pull from his beer, watching the unfamiliar boy as he stared back. "Name's Dave. And thanks for the drink."

Stiles felt his nerves begin to settle just the tiniest bit. "Uh.. You're welcome, Dave. I'm Stiles." He started to hold out a hand to shake, but aborted the motion when he realized his hand was still sticky from spilled beer. He scrambled for something to talk about, now that he was sitting here with the other boy's attention. "I uh... so I've never been here before. Is it always this lively?" He made a wide sweeping motion with his hand, taking in the bar and the dance floor.

Dave shrugged and smiled, glancing around at the nearly deserted space, with a spare five people dancing, and probably eight at the bar itself, with less than ten people settled at the tables off to the one side. "This is a pretty typical tuesday, I guess." He tilted his head, inquiring. "So what brings you to Scandals?" The question was asked playfully enough, but it was obvious he was honestly curious.

Stiles nearly spit out the truth, that he was sick of wolves and their pack dynamics, and just wanted a night without any strings, and this visit to his Grandma's house in Ohio was a good enough time as any. Instead, he just grinned semi-awkwardly and attempted a coquettish look. "I'm on the prowl."

Dave laughed out loud, tapering off when Stiles looked mildly affronted. He coughed out the rest of his laughter. "So uh... what are you uh.. prowling for, I guess?" He took another long drink, wondering when this conversation had gotten so awkward.

Stiles decided to give it one last shot before he gave up and labeled this outing a total failure, and leaned toward Dave, lowering his voice and saying conspiratorially, "Bear."

Dave lost it, his head tilting back on his neck as he laughed long and loudly, the hilarity only getting worse when he'd catch a glimpse of Stiles' semi-offended face and demeanor. He tried to choke it back when the smaller guy stood, announcing that he was glad Dave had been able to get such a laugh, but he was about done with humiliating himself for the night, and Dave had to stop him. He reached out, hiccuping as he tried to get his words out. "No, wait! I'm sorry, alright? It's not... I just-"

Stiles turned around, not that he had much choice in it, since the big lug had his hand wrapped around Stiles's bicep, but he looked him over anyways, rolling his eyes. "What is it now?"

Dave's laughter sobered instantly when he saw the honestly defeated look on the other boy's face. "Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it, I just... I'm not used to people talking to me here, and I haven't laughed like that in forever, and I've been going through some... stuff, and it was really nice, so.. Thanks, I guess. But don't leave. Please?"

Stiles looked into eyes gone suddenly wide, looking up at him from his perch on the bar stool, and he had to stop himself from melting under the hazel green gaze. "Yeah, I guess." He sat back down on his own stool, reaching for his drink, taking care this time not to spill on himself. "So yeah, I've never been here before. I live in California with my Dad, but I'm visiting my Grandma, and I needed a change of scene, I guess, and that's how I ended up making a giant ass out of myself while trying to come on to a hot guy in a bar in Ohio." He glared into his beer, as if it were to blame for global warming and Paris Hilton.

Dave blushed to the roots of his hair, nearly choking on his drink at Stiles' words. He looked around him, as if searching for said Hot Guy, and then looking back at Stiles. "So uh... where'd the hot guy get off to, and how did you embarrass yourself?"

Stiles made a scoffing sound before looking back up at Dave, then quieting when he realized that Dave was serious. "Uh... you're right here, and I'm damn sure not going to re-live it, thanks."

Dave's jaw dropped, and he he turned away, suddenly wishing he could disappear. "Well, now that you've made fun of me, I think we can call it even, and I'm gonna head out. Thanks for the drink." he stood, tucking his hands into his jean pockets, making for the door.

Stiles froze, confused, as he watched the other boy walk away. He was confused. When had he made fun of him, exactly? Realization sunk in slowly, and he spun on the bench, nearly face planting off of it as he stood, facing the door just in time to see it swing shut behind a broad, denim clad back. "Shit."

~o0o~o0o~o0o~

Dave had just unlocked the door of his truck, an old Chevy that he adored, when a shout behind him drew his attention. He turned, eyebrow going up when he saw Stiles frantically chasing after him.

"Hey!" Stiles was panting, having taken off after Dave. He slowed as he got closer, bending forward and catching his breath. "I wasn't making fun of you." He was huffing out his breaths between words, desperate to get them out. "I was trying to be smooth and suave and shit." He finally had a grip on his breathing, and stood fully, still waving his arms as he spoke, moving closer to Dave. "I get it, alright? Not interested. But I wasn't making fun. You're hot, and I'm an idiot, and I'm just gonna go now." He spun around, face flushed a bright pink, and tried to remember where he'd parked his Grandma's borrowed Buick.

Dave was shocked, to say the least. No one had ever called him hot before. Well, nobody under the age of a thousand, and/or attractive had ever said it. "Wait." When Stiles turned around, eyebrows raised, Dave looked down at his sneakers, kicking at the gravel of the parking lot. "So uh... what did you have in mind?" He glanced back up, and nearly jumped when he realized that Stiles had gotten quite a bit closer, and was staring at his mouth.

Stiles felt a rush of heat when Dave blushed and kicked at the ground, and couldn't help but get closer, watching as his tongue came out to wet his lips. He'd noticed it earlier in the bar, and realized that it must be a nervous habit. So he made Dave nervous. He could work with that. "So if I were to kiss you, you would be alright with that, yeah?"

Dave felt his knees getting weak as he was backed up against his truck, his eyes crossing as Stiles got closer, hands pressed against the metal to either side of his waist. "Uh... yeah, that's... that's fine." He took a short breath and squeezed his eyes shut. "It's just..."

Stiles stopped short, inhaling deeply as he got closer. There was the obvious alcohol on his breath, and on Stiles' clothes, but it was overlaid by body heat, cinnamon gum, and the Chrome cologne that Dave wore. It was the same that Isaac wore, but it never did much for Stiles on him. Now, on Dave, it was damn near intoxicating. "What?" He leaned back to see Dave's face, taking in the way his features had contorted, even as his hands came up to Stiles' shoulders, a comfortable weight, but not pushing away, not tugging in. Just there. "What's wrong?" He had to pay attention. Just because he was desperate to see if those shoulders were really as wide as they looked, and if his hands that were so well formed could break him in half, (metaphorically, of course,) and just how long it would take for Stiles to have the bigger guy crying out his name. He pulled his brain away from the 'happy place', determined to listen to the reality first. When he got no response, he opened his eyes and prompted again. "Dave?"

Dave tightened his hands around Stiles' trim shoulders for a second, finally loosing his tongue. "I've never really... I've only kissed one guy before, and it wasn't exactly..."

Stiles felt a surge of compassion, lifting his hands from the metal at Dave's sides, dropping them on Dave's shoulders, and drawing his gaze. "Did it suck? Cause I totally know the feeling. The first time I made out with a guy it was at a party at my friend Lydia's house, and he was kinda drunk, and he ended up drooling on my face."

Dave's face softened, but he couldn't quite laugh. "It- no. He wasn't into it.. into me, and then I ran off crying."

Stiles huffed out a breath, searching for words through his lust and alcohol clouded brain. True, he'd only had one beer, but it didn't take much to make him tipsy. "Well, I can promise that I'm already into it, so we're already doing good. Now, let's try this again, if I were to Mmph. Mmmmm..." Dave's mouth slammed into his, muffling him, and he leaned up into it. They weren't very different in height, but Dave had at least an inch on him, maybe a little more. His lips were soft and warm, his breath scented of that cinnamon Stiles had smelled before, and the beer they'd consumed together.

Dave moaned, dipping down to kiss Stiles deeper, his hands moving from shoulder to neck, pulling him in close, even as his mouth moved down his jaw to his throat, scraping his teeth against faint, barely there stubble.

There was a sudden burst of sound from the entrance to the bar, and Dave lifted his head to see a couple geezers leaving, heading past them to a car where they'd probably do all sorts of things Dave didn't want to think about old wrinkly dudes doing. He shuddered a little, but passed it off as a shiver. "We probably shouldn't stand here." There was regret in his tone that was very real, but even in the parking lot of a gay bar, standing in the open making out with a guy wasn't the safest bet, at least not in Ohio.

Stiles was panting, desperate not to separate from the kisses and the warm hands. "Where can we go?"

Dave's head jerked down to meet Stiles' hooded brown eyes, shock running through him. "Wha- you mean...?"

Stiles grinned, pulling Dave down into a short, hard kiss. "I'm not asking you to fuck me in a parking lot, dude, but I was kinda hoping you'd at least let me suck you off."

Dave was sure his brain had short circuited somewhere along the way. "Uh.. yeah, I." He cleared his throat, trying desperately to think clearly. "My uh... my Dad and Step-Mom are actually camping this week, with his bowling buddies and their wives, and my sister's at college, so my house is empty." He was rambling, he knew it, but couldn't help it.

Stiles untangled their limbs, stepping back and digging in his pocket for his Gran's keys. "Okay, I'll follow you there."

Dave nodded, getting into the truck and backing out, waiting for Stiles to pull up behind him and tap his horn. He shook his head, wondering what he was thinking, bringing some stranger home to his parents' house, but it was too late to go back now. He pulled into the driveway, watching in his side view mirror as the older Buick rolled to a stop at the curb and Stiles got out.

Stiles made his way to the driver's door of the truck, pausing for a moment before opening it himself and reaching in to unbuckle Dave's seat belt. He grabbed the keys from the ignition and tugged at Dave's hand, finally getting recognition in the form of Dave following him like a drone. It was kinda hilarious, and Stiles chuckled a litte, even as he sifted through Dave's keys to find the most likely to be his house key, and there, a little rubber ring around a residential key. He unlocked the house, swinging the door open and tugging Dave behind him.

Once inside, he turned to lock the deadbolt on the door, then noticed that Dave was headed up the stairs, still completely silent, but he just followed. It was odd behavior, but not any more strange than the people/wolves he usually spent time with, so he brushed it off. They got to the top of the stairs, and Stiles started tugging at his clothes, unzipping his hoodie and tugging at the still slightly damp neck of his t-shirt.

Dave was in a sort of haze where he wasn't sure how to behave, so he allowed Stiles to tug him around, then heading to his room. He knew he should probably say something, but couldn't come up with anything to say that wouldn't make him sound like an imbecile, so he stayed quiet. When he got to his bedroom, he first went and snapped on his desk lamp, then moved to his bedside table to click on that lamp as well.

He turned just in time to see Stiles tossing his hoodie onto the desk chair, following it with his t-shirt, and looking around. "Is there a bathroom around here? I'm still kinda sticky." He shivered, but just nodded when Dave pointed out a door near the closet. Stiles closed the hallway door, moving to the bathroom, shutting the door to relieve himself and wipe down his chest. He knew that what they were about to do was a lot more intimate, but there was something... private... about peeing. Something that should be done behind closed doors, as far as he was concerned.

When he came out of the bathroom, Dave was sitting on the shelf at the foot of the bed, looking awkward, and possibly terrified, staring at his stockinged feet. "Dave?" His eyes came up sharply, but his shoulders remained hunched, unconsciously trying to make himself seem smaller, which Stiles found utterly adorable. "Are you alright?" Dave shrugged, standing and fussing with his hands, as if trying to decide what to do with them, maybe unsure of where they'd even come from. Stiles sighed. He tried to think of a way to pull Dave out of his funk, and flashed to the laughing guy he'd been earlier, and decided that he'd just have to get his blood warm first, then hopefully the grins would follow. Or at least the fun, naked times.

Dave glanced up when Stiles shifted, trying not to stare at his bare chest, the remaining drops of water that clung to his collarbones from his quick wash up in the bathroom. He looked back at the floor, feeling absolutely out of place and uncomfortable.

"Dave?" He glanced up, and Stiles smiled at him. "You're allowed to look." His hands moved to the buckle of his belt, loosening it, but not pulling it from the loops. He'd just have to put it back later, and that was _work_. "You could always lose some of yours, too." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, but he wondered if it came off more as clownish than hot when Dave cracked a grin and stood, reaching for the hem of his shirt. Stiles kicked shoes and socks away with his jeans, eyes locked on Dave as his clothes were tossed away as well, the flex and swell of muscles in his arms and chest, then his legs as he bent down to pull off his shoes and socks, leaving his thighs bare to Stiles' gaze.

He could feel moisture pooling in his mouth, his halfie filling out as his interest grew. Dave was a big guy, yeah, but not fat, he was more... solid. Stiles liked solid. A lot. "I bet you could bench press me, huh?"

Dave eyed the other boy as he stood up, kicking his pile of clothes awkwardly to the side. "Well I can bench around 250 usually, but my goal is to be able to do 300 to 350 by the end of the year, so..." He trailed off, scratching the back of his head, still trying not to look at Stiles.

Stiles was ready to get this show on the road, so he closed the distance between them, shivering a little at the chill in the room. "Well you gonna just stand there, big boy? Or you gonna show me a good time?" He stopped a breath away, waiting for Dave to look at him.

Dave swung his head up, nearly impacting into Stiles' skull, then jumping back when he realized just how close the boy had gotten. "I uh... A good time, I guess. I just... " He cringed, knowing the words would have to come out eventually, and that he was going to slip somewhere. "I have to tell you something."

Stiles grimaced, letting his chin drop down to his chest. "I knew it was too good to be true. What is it? STI? Crazy Exes I have to defeat? A drug addiction?"

A choked laugh caught in Dave's throat, and he shook his head. "No no no, nothing like that, I just-" He squeezed his eyes shut, spitting it out "I'mavirgin."

Stiles' head whipped up so fast his vision blurred. "Wait, what? Huh." He put a finger to his chin, looking thoughtful. "Well that's certainly nothing I expected, but it's not so big a deal, if it doesn't bother you." He looked to Dave, concern on his features.

Dave shook his head softly, a wry grin on his face. "No, I guess not. If it's not weird for you."

Stiles just scoffed and chucked him on the chin. "Nope. But I'm thinking that the first order of business in this, the evening of your de-flowering, should be nakedness and blankets, because you're hot, and this room is freezing, capisce?"

Dave blushed adorably and reached down to slide his boxers off, staring at the floor as he did so. Stiles watched, shoving his own off his hips, and then reached up with both hands, unable to hold back any further, settling at Dave's shoulders, using the grip to pull himself up the two inch difference to meet his lips in a kiss. His hands stroked across those broad, muscular shoulders, sweeping first up, cupping Dave's jaw for a moment before sliding back down, the pads of his fingers dragging over collarbones and pecs, teasingly drifting down over Dave's nipples, but not stopping there, just continuing through his chest hair to his wide rib cage, and the soft flesh that covered his muscled core. There was so much strength there, and Stiles couldn't wait to see what he could do with all that strength. He pulled his mouth away, panting a little when Dave finally lost his grip on Stiles' lower lip. "You can touch me, you know. Hands on skin? That's totally allowed here. I mean, once you've got your guy, it's pretty much all game on, you know?" He pulls back a fraction, making eye contact with Dave, suddenly sober in tone. "But that's not a guarantee, really. No means no, and that goes for guys too, so if you want to stop, or slow down or anything, just say so, alright? And if something feels off, I'll tell you, cool?" The look of relief on Dave's face was so sweet that Stiles couldn't help but kiss him, trying to capture some of that sweetness for himself. "You okay?" His hands were on Dave's waist, running up and down his sides, stroking gently.

Dave grinned down at Stiles, a faint wet shimmer on his eyes that he would never admit to. "I'm good. Incredible, actually." He took a deep breath, finally lifting his hands from his sides and settling them on Stiles' shoulders. "So what's next? Blankets, right?" He smiled mockingly. "Cause I'm hot and you're cold?" He obviously thought the idea was ludicrous.

Stiles just leaned forward, bringing their faces close again. "Oh, you're plenty hot, and I'm starting to get warmer myself, but I still think bed is a good plan." Rather than circling around to the side, Stiles instead climbed onto the bench at the foot of the bed, crawling up to the head of the bed and tucking himself under the covers.

Dave was frozen for a long moment, just watching Stiles, unable to pull his gaze away from the pale expanse of his bare skin. He realized that Stiles was watching him in return, and mentally shook himself, walking around to the other side of the bed and lifting the covers to slide in next to Stiles, noting the oddness of having a second person in his bed. When Stiles shifted toward him, he turned his head, "So what happens ne-" He was caught off guard by the kiss, to say the least. He moaned and leaned in.

Stiles was surrounded by earthy boy, and the smell of the same Gain detergent that he used at home, and then there was the scent of Dave. Like soap, and faint traces of deodorant and aftershave, but also the smell of warm skin, only amplified by the fact that he was currently naked in Dave's sheets, and he was ready to be done talking. One big hand was at his nape, the other tucked under his side where he was leaning over Dave. He reached up to scratch at Dave's stubbly chin and jaw, pulling away to mouth at the opposite side of his neck, working his way down, biting gently on the tendon, noting a bruise on his shoulder. "What's this?" He touched it gingerly with his fingertips, making the bigger boy shiver.

Dave had to concentrate on the words to make them compute. "It's uh... it's from football. I took down this giant guy and got that." He laughed gently, trying not to notice how gentle Stiles was being. "You should see the other guy, though." He knew he was being boastful, and was about to continue in that vein when he felt lips brushing the bruise, and he tilted his head to the side and watched as Stiles pressed tiny butterfly kisses to the mottled stain. He made a noise that might have been confusion, but might have been welcome, and Stiles lifted up, meeting his eyes.

Stiles climbed up, lifting his hands to plant on either side of Dave on his pillow, effectively pinning the other boy down beneath him, and pressed down into a deep, possessing kiss. He licked in, feeling the smooth edge of his teeth, loving the bitter bite of the beer that was barely there anymore.

Dave surged up, wrapping his hands around Stiles' waist, and pressed into the kiss, sliding one hand up to cup the back of his neck, and squeezed firmly.

Stiles groaned, pressing harder in, scraping his teeth over Dave's lower lip, breathing harshly between them when he finally had to separate for air. He pulled back just far enough to make eye contact and levered his legs out, slowly lowering his pelvis down from his position kneeling over Dave. The insides of his thighs made contact first, sliding over Dave's hips, then he hissed as his dick slid over Dave's belly, sliding down further, then impacting with Dave's erection. He hissed, pressing closer, and couldn't control the rocking of his hips as they pistoned against Dave. "Fucking hell."

Dave laughed through a moan, sliding his hands down the sweet expanse of Stiles' back, and ground his hips upward, nearly whimpering with the friction on his cock. His hands slid down to grasp at Stiles' ass, squeezing, but not hard, still somewhat unsure with his inexperience.

Stiles leaned himself on one forearm, bringing the other down to slide around their cocks, barely fitting them in his fingers so he could stroke them together. "Oh, God. You're so big." He panted, pressing a smacking kiss to Dave's mouth, but it wasn't right. "It's too dry, gonna chafe. Do you have any lube or something?"

Dave moaned, reluctantly pulling his hand away from Stiles, swinging t out to the side, indicative of his nightstand, but unable to reach it himself. "Over there, second drawer." His eyes were closed, his head tilted back on the pillow beneath him.

Stiles took a moment to appreciate the sight he made before letting go of their dicks in order to reach the drawer, finding a bottle of lube inside, next to an impressively sized dildo. He pulled that out too, looking at it closer, grinning when he drew Dave's gaze. "It's nice." He motioned with his head to the toy in his hand. "Unfortunately it's bigger than me."

Dave blushed even harder, looking uncomfortable. "Well, I haven't used it that many times. It kinda hurts, and it's hard to reach." He stopped, closing his for just a second before reaching down to grasp Stiles' cock in a big, rough hand. "I like yours better."

Stiles dropped the toy into the drawer unceremoniously, moving back to Dave in order to kiss him hard. "Do you have a condom here somewhere, or do I need to go find my pants? Cause I was just going to give us a wet hand job, but I really really want to fuck you right now."

Dave did whimper this time, falling apart at the way Stiles ground out the words against his mouth. "There's a box of condoms in the other drawer."

Stiles let out a relieved breath, reaching over to dig the box out of the stand, and tearing it open, moving back to Dave with his spoils. He placed a kiss at Dave's mouth, but didn't linger. He made his way down his throat and to his collarbones, biting down gently, moving further, scraping his teeth at Dave's chest hair,than stopping to lick at his nipple, giving a tentative suck, and grinning when Dave reacted, his whole body jolting at the unexpected stimulation.

Stiles shifted, moving to the other side, copied the action on his other nipple, but didn't linger. He moved down, kissing his way over Dave's stomach, down to his belly button, pausing just a moment to nip at the skin there before moving further, having to use his hand to pull Dave's erection away from his belly, mouthing all the way down to it's base.

Dave was so turned on, he was sure he would literally set his sheets on fire. The feeling of Stiles' hand on his dick, his mouth on his skin, his breath _everywhere_ was doing things to him. Very very good things. Lips ghosted over the base of his cock, brushing the hair that grew there, moving down to brush over his balls, and he felt an intense suction as Stiles sucked one inside, laving it with his tongue. Dave cried out, his head rolling back on the pillow, his throat arching desperately.

Stiles pulled away, taking in the view of Dave losing control, then grinned and went back, repeating with the opposite side, and letting the sounds that came out of Dave wash over him. He pulled away from Dave and moved so he was kneeling between his legs, spreading them, and got Dave's attention. "Help me out here. Hold your legs up like this." He showed Dave where to put his hands behind his knees, feeling himself getting even hotter as Dave opened himself up, putting his ass on display. Coming back to himself, he grabbed the lube and slicked up his fingers, rubbing the cold digits against Dave's puckered hole.

Dave hissed, not ready for the sudden chill. "Holy fuck that's cold!" Stiles stilled, so he grinned reassuringly. "It's fine, keep going. I just didn't expect it to be so cold." He felt a fingertip pressing against him, and he couldn't help but clench up at the intrusion.

"Calm down. If you don't relax down here, this will take forever, and possibly be painful." Stiles kept stroking over the outside with plenty of lube, only the tip of his finger inside Dave. He tried stroking him comfortingly, but Dave still had that uncomfortable look on his face, so he climbed up the bed, keeping his hand at Dave's ass, pausing when they were face to face.

"Wha-?" Dave was confused, to say the least, but Stiles cut him off.

"Kiss me. Like you mean it." He dared him with his eyes.

Dave was never one to back away from a challenge, so after a second of confusion, he leaned up, one hand wrapped behind Stiles' neck, and kissed him for all he was worth, tongue and teeth and lips, moaning at the contact, and at the rush of want that accompanied it. The kiss took all his attention, and the burning ache down below was a hovering presence in the back of his mind until Stiles pulled away to pull the condom on and situate himself.

Stiles grinned, panting against Dave's neck. "Ready?"

"Oh, you were waiting for me?" Dave laughed, rolling his neck, and spread his legs out further for Stiles. "Yeah, I think you should definitely fuck me now."

There was a moan, and then Stiles was pushing in, slowly, so slowly, and Dave was sure he would swallow his tongue, but then Stiles was kissing him again, and he was able to fall into that again, so sweet, so hot, and then it was too much, and he couldn't concentrate on the kissing anymore as his body fell apart and his mind with it. He cried out, but didn't bother muffling himself, just gripped at Stiles' waist, his ass, his shoulders, anything he could reach.

Soon they had a rhythm, rocking together, skin smacking and the headboard bumping against the wall softly, grunting and moaning, Dave's fist flying over his own dick, Stiles pounding into him, slick lube dripping down Dave's crack and onto the sheets, and then Dave was coming, and Stiles slowed down, watching his face as he climaxed, the way his eyes squeezed shut, little whimpering sounds coming from his throat, and then Stiles was there with him, rocking harder, shallower, and filling the condom. He collapsed onto Dave, smooshing their chests together, the cooling come sticking between them, and Stiles laughed. "I'm gonna require a shower eventually." He sighed, laying his head down on Dave's chest exhaustedly. "As soon as my legs decide to become legs again."

Dave just rubbed up and down Stiles' back, a faint grin crossing his features, his eyes still closed, occasional shivers wracking his form. "Yeah." After a minute, he realized what they were talking about, and lifted his head slightly, cracking open his eyes. "Or... I have a bathtub. This is like, the mother in law suite or whatever, so I've got a jacuzzi bath and stuff, and I bet there's something good smelling in the cupboard that my Mom left there. If you want."

Stiles lifted his head marginally, huge grin on his face. "Marry me."


End file.
